Guardian Angel
by whowhatsitwhich
Summary: "Momma, who was that man?" Sophia questioned. "Our guardian angel, baby," Carol said quietly. "He's our guardian angel."
1. Chapter 1

_"We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another." ~Luciano De Crescenzo_

She wasn't much bigger than the little girl she watched over so carefully. Her silvered hair lay in lank strands about her haggard face, blue eyes wide and staring. The girl stayed close to her mother, timid and unsure as she peered at the people around her. Not that there was many this time of night. Most were passengers of the Greyhound that lumbered in just after midnight, who lurched off the bus like refugees and sank gratefully into the uncomfortable plastic chairs.

He didn't usually stop here on his way home. It was easier to make a sandwich or heat up something quick. Tonight, he just didn't have in it in him. He was coming off the back-end of a four-day swing shift and those last few hours were always the hardest. He had three days to rest up, recharge his batteries, and then start the whole thing over again. Daryl gave the menu a tired look, picked a number at random and took the ticket from the clerk. He perched against the railing to wait his turn.

They caught his eye. Something about the way they were wrapped together drew him in. The slight woman cradled her girl close, her hand moving absently through corn silk hair as her gaze wandered about the restaurant. Their eyes met before hers moved on. He was just another face in the crowd at this stop. She'd seen others like him and would see countless more until they got wherever they were going. "I'm hungry, momma," the young voice pierced him like a spear. He couldn't help but watch from the corner of his eye as the woman's mouth tightened before curving into a smile.

"I know, Sophia." The mother's voice was taut with worry despite the reassuring way she stroked the girl's arm. "Give me a minute and we'll get you something. Okay, baby?" The young one nodded her trusting eyes firm on her mother's face. Daryl looked on as the woman pulled a wallet out of her bag and leafed through a thin green bundle. It didn't take a genius to figure out she was going over what they had, running a tally against what they would need, and was coming up short. She peeled off the top bill and tucked the rest into the wallet before pulling out another smile. "Let's get you some dinner."

They got into the queue, the young one eagerly looking at the multi-hued board above the counter. She murmured excitedly to her mother, too low for him to hear, and then laughed and clapped excitedly when the woman nodded. She spoke to the clerk, received her receipt and gathered her girl up with a look.

Daryl was handed his to go bag a few moments later but something told him to wait so he did. He lingered at the condiment station, his attention on the two still waiting in line. When she picked up their tray and headed in his direction, he stepped to the side. Just as he suspected, there was only one meal and cup on the tray. The girl ran ahead and set her cup under the fruit punch dispenser. She gave him a nervous smile which he returned before joining her mother at a nearby table. The child dug into her food with gusto and the mother laughingly admonished her to slow down. His hands tightened on the bag. She was just as hungry as the girl. He could see it in the way her eyes lingered on the food before darting away. The knowledge of what she was doing curdled his stomach. He'd never seen anything like it, this willingness to sacrifice for someone else.

His feet were moving before he realized it. Startled blue eyes widened as he approached the table. Neither spoke as he stood beside them, fingers white on the folds of the bag. He opened his mouth to speak but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he set the food down and nudged it in her direction. He shook his head when she started to speak, waving her to silence. He then reached into the front pocket of his jeans and removed a wad of bills and dropped them beside the bag. "Gotta eat," he muttered gruffly. "Have to take care of you so you can keep taking care of her."

Her eyes filled up, the tears gleaming diamond bright in the harsh fluorescent light. She tried to speak again but he waved her off. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stalked to the door, refusing to look back as embarrassment sent a tide of color into his cheeks. She watched him, the tattered wings on his vest drawing a watery smile as the door slid closed blocked him from view.

"Momma, who was that man?" Sophia questioned around a mouth full of cheeseburger.

Carol reached into the bag and took out the man's sandwich, taking a healthy bite before she answered. "Our guardian angel, baby," she said quietly. "He's our guardian angel." She smiled at the girl's wondering looks before nodding toward the tray. "Eat up now," she ordered sternly. "The bus will be leaving soon. We'll be at Grandma's this time tomorrow. It's gonna be alright, Sophia." She took another bite of the sandwich, feeling the tense muscles of her shoulders ease up. "It's gonna be alright." She repeated to herself. Ed was miles behind them and a new chance was just around the bend.

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He couldn't shake them on the drive home or the image of those wide, worried eyes and the grateful tears filling them up when he dropped those wadded bills on the table. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel, muttering oaths under his breath. "Stop it, you pussy," he grumbled. "It ain't nothing so just forget about it. They're not your problem."

He shook his head angrily, climbed out of the truck and then stomped his way across the yard. The trailer wasn't much to look at but it was paid for and kept the rain off. For the hundredth time, he told himself that he was gonna do something about the sway in the porch and hang the new screen door when he got a minute. And for the hundredth time, he promptly forgot about it as soon as he got inside. A black cat stirred lazily from his usual cushion on the couch and got up to greet him. "Hello, you fat bastard," Daryl groused as he gave it an obligatory scratch behind the ears. "I don't want you prowling all night and keeping me awake, you hear. Some of us don't get to sleep the day away." He got a head bump by way of reply before the feline wandered off to investigate his water bowl.

Daryl closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders to stretch out the kinks that had found their way in on the drive home. Sighing softly, he pulled open the refrigerator door and studied the contents. "Bologna and bread," he said morosely. "Just what the doctor ordered." He tossed meat and cheese on the counter and helped himself to a couple of slices from the breadbox. A bowl of almost stale chips rounded off his meal. Daryl laughed, palmed a Bud from the six pack on the lower shelf, and settled into the recliner with his tray balanced on his knees. The local news droned in the background as he worked his way through the sandwich and chips. He sipped the beer, letting the warmth of the alcohol lull him into an almost sleep. He sank deeper into the cushions and closed his eyes, listening to the TV with half an ear.

"A domestic dispute turned deadly in Selby," the anchor's somber voice announced. "Authorities were called out to a residence on Senoia Drive when neighbors reported an argument. When they arrived on scene, police discovered Ed Pelletier, age 44, lying unresponsive in the living room. He was taken to Selby Memorial where he was pronounced dead on arrival. Local police are asking for help in locating his wife, Carol Peletier and their minor daughter. They haven't been seen or heard from in a couple of days. If you have any information, please contact the Selby County Sheriff Department at 555-7425."

Daryl sat up abruptly, his food forgotten as a picture flashed on screen. "Son of a bitch," he stared in disbelief. It was them, the girl and her mother from the restaurant. His mind spun rapidly as realization set in. No wonder she looked scared to death. She must have grabbed the girl and what she could carry before hauling ass out of there. He pushed his way out of the chair and dumped his plate in the sink before running a hand wearily through his hair. He had a strict policy when it came to dealing with the police….he didn't.

Growing up in this place with the last name Dixon meant that cops knew everything there was to know about you. Merle made double damned sure of that as did their old man back in the day. Daryl was the black sheep in the family for not having a rap sheet a mile long. He paced the length and breadth of the room, shooing the cat away when it tried to twine around his ankles. Somehow, some way his Good Samaritan act was going to come back and bite him in the ass. He gnawed on his thumbnail, shaking his head despite his misgivings. No. If he had it to do over, he would do the same thing. Merle was right, damn the man to hell. He was fucking soft and not worthy of the Dixon name.

Daryl kicked his boots into the corner and yanked his shirt over his head as he made his way to the shower. Wherever she was going, he hoped she was prepared for the shit hitting the fan when the cops caught up with her. He ducked into the warm spray trying to suppress the urge to give a damn. It wasn't anything to him. She and her girl wasn't his problem.

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She woke up surrounded by warmth, swathed head to toe in a worn but velvety soft blanket that smelled of pine and green growing things. For a minute, she kept her eyes closed as she snuggled deeper into her pillow but then memory caught up to her, causing her to sit bolt upright in the bed clutching the blanket to her. Her frantic gaze sought and found Sophia sleeping nearby, only the tip of her nose and a few wayward strands of blonde hair visibly.

The bed they were in was wide enough for the two of them to sleep comfortably and took up most of the available space in the room. A battered dresser and a low table acting as a TV stand made up the rest of the furnishings. Thin golden light seeped in through cheap vinyl blinds attesting to the earliness of the hour. Carol slumped back against the pillows and pondered the inexplicable change of events that had taken place over the last twenty-four hours. She couldn't help but wonder how the hell she'd gotten here and what made her decide to trust a stranger. Accepting a kindness was one thing but going home with a complete stranger and bringing Sophia along for the ride was altogether different. She'd lost her mind was the only explanation she could come up with. She shivered and pulled the blankets closer as the memories rolled through her.

_Carol stumbled off the bus with Sophia cradled in her arms. The girl rested heavily on her shoulder, still asleep despite the long hours spent on the bus. Her gangly form was almost too much for Carol to handle, what with her feet dangling almost to her mother's knees. She didn't want to wake her, knowing that she was exhausted both from the trip and the mad dash from home. Carol tried without success to put change into the payphone and dial the number. After she fumbled the handset, Carol blew out a frustrated breath and lowered Sophia to the ground. "Wake up, baby. I need you to help me for just a minute. Can you do that?"_

_Sophia mumbled and rubbed her eyes but obediently stood on her own. "Are we going to Grandma's now?" She asked groggily. Carol nodded and tucked a few strands of hair behind the girl's ear. "I'm tired, momma. Will we get there soon?"_

_She fed coins rapidly into the slot and punched a number from memory. After a few rings, she heard a tired voice rasp hello. "Mother, it's me. It's Carol. I'm sorry to wake you." _

_Millie Jackson's surprise was clear as the sound of her daughter's voice came over the line. "Carol, what's wrong? What happened? You don't usually call so late." _

_Carol bit back a hiss of annoyance, well aware that calling so late was unusual. Ed kept close tabs on whom she called or who came by the house. Sophia never had friends stay over and it was seldom if ever that Carol had company. Ed's drinking buddies and co-workers wandered about like they owned the place. He let them come and go as they pleased and dared her to say a word to the contrary. She was there to be seen and to keep the refrigerator stocked. He made sure that both she and Sophia knew their place and used his fist or a belt to drive the point home. _

_"It got bad and we couldn't stay there anymore. We're at the bus station. Can we stay until I figure something out?" The silence on the other end was deafening. Carol held her breath, hoping and praying that her mother would say yes and leave it at that. When she heard the sigh, her heart plummeted. _

_Millie's voice was regretful but no less firm when she answered, "You need to go home, Caroline. Go home to your husband where you belong. Take Sophia and go. A child should be with her daddy and her mother."_

_Carol's hands shook as she fought back a reflexive scream. It would never change. She knew that now. Instead she smiled at Sophia as she responded, "I understand." With that, she hung up the phone and pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. Sophia looked up at her uncertainly, prompting yet another reassuring smile. "It's late, baby, and Grandma is tired. We'll stay someplace else tonight. Sophia didn't question her, instead she nuzzled closer. As Carol patted her back reassuringly, she couldn't help but wonder how many times she would have to lie to her daughter and how in the world she would ever make it up to her. _

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_He felt like a damned fool but he didn't turn the truck around. He had to know they were okay. He couldn't say why but it wouldn't leave him alone. He backtracked and got a copy of the route for the midnight bus. The next stop was only an hour's drive. He cussed a blue streak as the truck ate up the miles but he didn't stop. When he pulled into the station, Daryl wasn't surprised to find the bus already gone and the depot empty. It had been a long shot anyway. He took a last look around before heading back the way he'd come and told himself that it wasn't too little or too late. _

_He heard them before he caught sight of them standing by the pay phones. The girl's voice carried across the open space, "I'm tired, momma. Will we get there soon?" He shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched the woman dial and speak quietly but urgently into the phone. He knew from the way her face changed that whatever she heard on the phone wasn't what she'd hoped. She looked desperate and tired and out of hope. She looked defeated. He was moving toward them before the receiver settled into place. _

_"Uh…ma'am," he called out hesitantly. Those wide blue eyes rounded when she caught sight of him, her arms tightening reflexively on her girl. He held up both hands toward her, hoping she would take it that he didn't mean them no harm. "Look, don't be scared, alright? I ain't gonna hurt you. I just wanted to…" His faced reddened as he realized how strange this must seem to her. She didn't know him and it wasn't likely to be a coincidence running into him again, at least not like this. "I'm not gonna bother you, okay?"_

_Carol's face softened as she noticed his obvious discomfort. He looked like he wanted to sink right through the floor judging from the way his eyes darted about and the fiery blush he sported. She pushed Sophia behind her but managed a nod in his direction. "It's fine. Really it is. Can I help you, Mr…" her voice trailed off uncertainly. _

_He shifted from foot to foot but finally chanced to meet her probing look. "Daryl," he muttered. "My name's Daryl." He offered his hand but dropped it abruptly to his side, eyes flitting away yet again. "Don't mean to scare you or your girl. I…uh…that is…I wanted to make sure you were okay."_

_He'd managed to shock her that much was clear. Her mouth made a perfect O before she caught herself. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag and on her girl's hand. The twig of a girl had no such qualms, eying him with bright interest from behind her mother. She essayed a smile which broadened to a grin when he returned the gesture. "We're fine. Thank you," Carol's voice pulled his gaze back to her. "In fact we were just leaving. Our ride will be here any minute."_

_Her words came too fast and much too chipper to be believed. Daryl could see that she was trying to be nice and chalked that up to the meal. She was repaying a kindness but that's as far as her trust went. "I don't mean you no harm. Like I said, I just wanted to check on you. That's all," he shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. "If you want, I can take you wherever you need to go." _

_Her expression wavered from distrust to curiosity and back again as she eyed him. She was clearly weighing her options. Sophia nudged her, her head bobbing eagerly when Carol looked toward her. "I guess it'll be alright," Carol conceded. "If it's not too much trouble, we'd like a ride. Thank you, Daryl." She bit her lip before extending her hand toward him. "I'm Carol, Carol Peletier and this is Sophia" _

_He gave a noncommittal grunt but motioned for them to follow as he led the way to his truck. Sophia bounded up to the passenger side but her mother hung back. "You don't hafta go," Daryl said softly. "I'm good either way." _

_She froze with her hand on the door and gave him an owl-eyed look. "I said we'd go." He gave another shrug and climbed inside, tapping his thumbs impatiently against the steering wheel as he waited for them to get in. Carol let Sophia go ahead of her before swinging the door shut behind her. _

_Daryl continued to stare out the window but finally looked in her direction. "Where to?" The simple question caught her off guard. Where to? Carol twisted her hands in her lap, her mind working frantically. A hotel would just about deplete her funds. She couldn't think, couldn't move. Sophia's face crumpled, strained and tight at the sight of her mother's distress. "Carol, where to?" Daryl repeated. She opened her mouth but no words came. She could only sit there, staring at her hands. Her head swiveled toward him, eyes wide as he cranked the motor. "Take it easy," he mumbled. "We've got a ways to go. You can sleep if you want." _

_Her brow furrowed questioningly as he put the truck in gear and rolled out of the lot. "Where are we going?" _

_He flicked a glance in her direction before staring out the window. "We're going home. Take it easy. We'll be there before long." _

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She heard him moving around and eased her legs out from under the blankets, careful not to disturb Sophia. Making her way to the door, she eased it open and then peeked down the hallway. The soft drone of a TV was interspersed running water and the clanking of glassware against Formica. The insistent demands of her bladder forced her out of hiding and into the tight quarters of the bathroom across the way. It took a few minutes to wash her face and flatten her hair before she felt brave enough to face him. Stranger or not, he'd been there when she needed someone and she couldn't and wouldn't forget that.

He looked up as she entered and gestured toward the table where a plate heavy with eggs and toast rested beside a steaming mug of coffee. She sank gratefully into a chair and curled her fingers around the cup, taking advantage of the comforting warmth. He slouched against the counter, watching her warily. "Is she still asleep?"

Carol jumped at the unexpected question, hissing as the steaming brew sloshed over the rim and onto her hand. "She's still out like a light," she replied as she hastily dried her hand on the hem of her shirt. She jumped again as his fingers encircled her wrist and lifted it so that he could peer at her reddened skin. "It's okay really. Please. I'm fine."

Daryl looked at her silently but let go of her wrist and took his place back at the counter, arms folded across his chest. "Figured I'd get some hunting in. Won't be gone long." He waited for her nod before going to the back door, stopping to pick up a rucksack and a crossbow which he slung over his shoulder. He stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder almost shyly. "It ain't much but make yourself at home."

Carol hesitated but finally let the words out to the question she'd wanted to ask him when he first approached their table. "Why did you help us?"

Daryl stiffened and scuffed the toe of his boot on the floor before answering. "Dunno why. I just did." He toyed with the strap angled across his chest, avoiding her searching gaze. "I just did," he repeated stoutly, but remained in the door, waiting to see if she would accept it or would worry it like a kitten with a skein of yarn.

Carol stared into her coffee, biting back a thank you that she somehow knew would put his back up. She looked up just in time to see the door close behind him and couldn't help but smile at the fleeting glimpse of those ragged wings.

End part 1…..


	2. Rarely Pure and Never Simple

_Guardian Angel_

_Chapter 2: Rarely Pure and Never Simple_

**_"The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Often, love is a tangled web of lies that only a broken heart would weave. Seldom is dishonesty the whole person, rather it's the pain."― Shannon L. Alder_**

_She turned seventeen just two weeks before they got married. Millie and Everett Jackson cared little for their daughter's second thoughts, only that her admirer had a suitable last name and position in the community. The morning of the service, Carol pleaded with them to let her come home. She wasn't surprised when they drove her to the church instead with her father's last words ringing in her ears. You will do this, Caroline. You will marry Ed Peletier and that is my last word on the subject. Defy me and I will never see you again. You'll never be welcome in my house. So she did. She let Ed put a ring on her finger and she never spoke to her father again._

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"Mommy, how long are we going to stay here?" Sophia questioned around a mouthful of eggs and toast. Her big blue eyes didn't waver as she eyed her mother over the rim of her glass. "Are we still going to Grandma's house?"

Carol's cup rattled against the table as she set it down hurriedly in lieu of dropping it. She rubbed the back of her neck as she tried to think of a reasonable excuse as to why they couldn't and wouldn't be going. She decided to come clean with the girl like she should have done the minute they left home. "Sophia," she began hesitantly, knotting her fingers together in her lap. "We're not going to Grandma's. We can't. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you until now."

Sophia eyed her in trepidation, her food momentarily forgotten as she took in her mother's words. "Why not? You said that's where we were going. You said Grandma was just tired. What's gonna happen now? Are we going back home?" The brief flash of fear Carol glimpsed on her daughter's face was almost her undoing.

"No," another voice, raspy and deep broke in. Both mother and daughter looked at the man standing in the doorway with his crossbow riding on one shoulder and a brace of squirrels over the other. "You're not," he continued as he dropped the animals by the door and laid his bow on the counter. "Not right now anyway. Eat your food. I'm gonna talk to your momma for a minute."

Carol watched with some amusement as Sophia's eyes rounded before she nodded. She tucked into her breakfast like she'd never seen food before, shooting hesitant glances at him in between bites. Daryl grunted in approval before jerking his head toward the living room. He didn't wait to see if she was following before moving off. She chanced a look at Sophia, who was eating a piece of toast while she scribbled aimlessly on a piece of paper with the other hand. Satisfied that the girl would stay put, Carol followed an impatient Daryl into the other room.

He spun to face her the minute they were out of earshot. "I know a place. It's safe. You can stay there, you and your girl, if you want to go."

The words surprised her as much as the intense expression on his face. It's safe. You can stay there. He unconsciously echoed the words that a deputy had said to her the first time she screwed up her courage to leave Ed. It all came rushing back, wave upon wave of memories and emotions that threatened to take her under. Fear, more than anything, prickled her skin, sending shivers up and down her back. She couldn't help but think back, losing herself in those two fateful days and the price she paid for those precious hours of freedom.

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_The phone rang a discordant scar on an otherwise perfect afternoon. Miranda Morales excused herself gracefully from her company and went inside to answer it, calling back to see if anyone needed anything from the kitchen. The happy sounds of children playing filled up the afternoon air and gave Carol a curiously content feeling as she watched Sophia running and dodging with the others. The sight of her girl enjoying herself was one of the most beautiful things Carol had ever seen. She sipped her tea and leaned back in her chair, letting the others' idle talk wash over her. Miranda calling her name pulled her out of her relaxed state, her teeth on edge as the urgent tone registered._

_"That was Jacqui," Miranda confided. "She's called everywhere trying to track you down."_

_Carol's eyes widened at the announcement. "Why? Is something wrong?" She asked hesitantly. Jacqui DuBois had lived in the brick Colonial on the corner for the last ten years. She was a ray of sunshine with a ready smile and a listening ear for whomever needed it. Carol tried to keep her home life as close to the vest as possible but Jacqui was one of the few that knew the truth. "What is it?"_

_Miranda looked about uncomfortably, consciously avoiding Carol's gaze. She rang her hands, chafing her fingers as she struggled to find the words. "Ed's home. He got there about ten minutes ago. Jacqui said that she could hear him shouting from her front yard. She's terrified for you. She wanted me to tell you not to go home." Letting out a shaky breath, Miranda took her friend's trembling hands in her own. "I might be over the line but I made a call after Jacqui hung up. Antonio is on duty today. He's cleared it with Sheriff Grimes to take you and Sophia over to Jasper. There's a place for women and children there. It's an emergency shelter. The group that runs it keeps it completely anonymous. It's safe. You can stay there, both you and Sophia. I can get Antonio to come now and he'll have you there before nightfall."_

_She shook her head reflexively, the denial coming automatically to the offer of help. Ed made it clear what would happen if she ever tried to leave. Her eyes strayed to Sophia, a knot in her throat making it difficult to speak. Somehow, she found herself nodding, murmuring assent even as her heart pounded in her ears. It was a reprieve, a short one, and no doubt he would make her pay for it when she came home. She didn't let herself think about that as she called Sophia to her as the cruiser rounded the corner and eased into the drive. Antonio Morales wasted no time, shepherding them into the backseat and telling them to keep their heads down until they made it out of town. Carol slumped down with Sophia held close by her side, hot tears burning haphazard trails down her face. _

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"Where?" The question left her in a breathless whisper, her voice tattered and torn, frail and scared all at once.

His expression shifted through a myriad of emotions too swift to follow. His eyes changed as did his voice, both becoming soft and gentle as he inched closer. He moved slow, keeping his hands low and held away from his body with fingers spread wide. He acted like she was a wild creature, prone to bolt at the slightest provocation and he wanted to head her off before she did. "It's called Woodbury. It's not far from here. It's a farm of sorts."

Carol side eyed him, the habitually tense muscles of her shoulders loosening as he stopped a few feet away. A sigh slipped out, a ragged reminder of behavior too ingrained to be set aside easily. "Of sorts," she repeated. "What do you mean 'of sorts'?"

He shrugged, ruddy color creeping up his neck and flooding his cheeks. "I…uh…I help out every now and again. It's run by an old guy and his nieces. One sticks around and does the day to day. The other is a lawyer up in Atlanta. They're good people."

She hugged herself tightly, tucking her chin into her chest as she considered his words. Feeling his eyes on her, she glanced up only to see his dart away. He was as skittish as a wild thing, there one second and then just as quickly gone. "I thank you for the offer but we should probably be going when Sophia finishes. I can't repay you for your kindness now but I will someday. I promise I will." She stepped by him, on her way back to the kitchen, eyes averted so that she wouldn't have to explain further. That plan went awry as his rough fingers closed around her wrist.

"Don't need no repayment," he returned gruffly. "Just want you and the girl somewhere safe."

She covered his hand with hers, giving his a grateful squeeze before letting go. "I appreciate your concern, Daryl but we're not your problem. You've done more for my girl already than her own daddy ever did. You're a good man, every bit as good as anyone else." She couldn't miss the way his cheeks reddened or the uncomfortable shift of his shoulders. "If you'll take us back to town, we'll be on our way."

"On your way to where, Carol," he asked shortly. "Where you gonna go, you and your girl?"

The words stuck in her throat, tangled like skeins of yarn. "I'll call a friend and we'll stay with her. Can I use your phone?" Daryl snorted under his breath, gesturing toward the phone sitting on a low table by the couch. "I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?"

He didn't answer as he headed for the kitchen, looking back over his shoulder to nod at the phone. Carol's heart thudded against her ribs at the half-smile she glimpsed before he ducked out of sight. That man. She picked up the receiver only to drop it gently back in the cradle a moment later. She had no one to call and nowhere to go, nowhere but home. If she was lucky, Ed would be angry enough to kill her quickly. She didn't put much stock in that happening because she'd never been lucky a day in her life.

Carol started as a tanned hand reached past her, picked up the phone and swiftly dialed a number. He shouldered her aside as he bent his head and spoke quietly. "I know. Yeah, better give Andrea a call. I don't know but I didn't ask either. No point to making her go over it more than once. We'll be there by midday." He hung up and looked at her before shoving one hand in his pocket while lifting the other to his mouth to gnaw on the skin bordering his nail. "I won't say sorry."

"And I won't say thank you," she muttered.

"Don't want your thanks," he returned curtly. "Don't want nothing from you. I'll see you to Woodbury and that'll be the end of it. You said it yourself, lady. You and your girl ain't my problem."

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The smile that greeted them was almost blinding in its intensity. It was the kind of smile that begged to be returned. Carol felt an almost unwilling upward tug at her lips before biting it back. She felt a familiar twist in her gut as the beautiful woman knelt before Sophia, listening to her animated speech before brushing the tawny fall of hair out of the girl's pink tinged face. Michonne, as she named herself, was all lithe, wiry strength, every motion smooth and elastic. She cuffed Daryl playfully on the shoulder as she dropped a jade hued stone into his upturned palm. "It matches your eyes," she drawled, shooting Carol a conspiratorial grin.

He rolled the gem deftly through his fingers, staring at it intently before tucking it into his pocket. "Stop," he grunted. "Don't have time for foolishness, Chonne. Did you call Andrea like I told you?"

"She'll be along," Michonne announced, dark eyes alight with interest as she took Carol in from head to toe. "Where did you find this one, Dixon? She's as mild as milk water. If she's a killer, I'll eat my damned sword."

"Killer," Carol choked out. "Why would you say that? I've never hurt anyone in my life."

A brow quirked up as Michonne offered up another sun bright smile. "So you say. I've learned the hard way that a person with something to hide usually says the opposite. Maybe you're a killer or maybe you know one. Either way, Carol Pelletier, you're going to have to get your story straight." She inclined her head toward the big farmhouse across the way. "Let's get you and your girl settled. Andrea said she'd be here before it got too late. Dale wanted to talk to you before you head out, Daryl. Just to warn you, he's been fooling with that old RV again. How he thinks he's going to get in going is beyond me. "

"He's a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, I'll give him that." Daryl shook his head wearily. "I'll go see what he wants. You all head on up. I'll come by before I take off." Carol gave him an unsure look but followed Michonne and Sophia into the farmyard. "It'll be alright," he told her. "Go on. Amy'll stuff that girl full of cookies and Kool-Aid if you ain't there to put a stop to it." She nodded but her fingers still moved restlessly on her bag's shoulder strap, betraying her nervousness. "I'll be back. Go ahead and go." She turned on heel and made her way to the house, feeling his eyes on her every step of the way.

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Andrea Harrison, all big blue eyes and soft blond hair, wasn't exactly what Carol pictured when she imagined a civil rights lawyer from Atlanta. The woman favored snug jeans and fitted blouses while leaving her hair to fall loose around her shoulders. She would never be called a mouse or fade into the background. She would command every eye when she entered a room and made Carol feel downright dowdy by comparison. That niggling voice in the back of her head…the one that sounded like Ed most days and her mother on others…that voice crooned that she was useless and worthless and everything in between. She tried to push it back, shut it down but it knew all of her weaknesses and used them. Somehow, she made herself focus on the woman in front of her. There would be time enough to tear herself apart.

"You don't need to tell me everything now," Andrea took a sip of lemon-aid, making a sound of approval as the tart-sweet liquid slid down her throat. "We'll stick to the high points. I can fill in the blanks later. You're saying that your husband was alive and well the last time you saw him." Carol nodded wordlessly, biting her lip as Andrea stared into her glass while her fingers tapped out a rhythm on the table. "Okay, nix the no details. What happened that made you decide to leave? What pushed you over the line, Carol?"

Tears beaded and ran down her cheeks and she let them. For once, she let them go as those awful scenes replayed in her head. "He came in for breakfast and said that he'd be home early. The plant was only running a half-shift because the big presses were going to be down for maintenance and an overhaul on one of the feeders. It was going to take all weekend and Monday was a holiday. I knew by the way he looked at me that he had it all planned out. 'I'll be back soon, bitch.' He grabbed me by my hair, his breath hot and wet on my skin. 'We're gonna have some fun, you and me, while the brat's gone. I'm gonna fuck you like the whore you are and you're gonna like it. If you don't then I'll keep going until you do.' Sophia had a Brownie sleepover and he knew it. He left for work and I just sat there. I thought if I stayed, he would do exactly as he promised. He would beat me again, he would rape me again and then he'd go on as if nothing had happened. I'd have to put a good face on it for Sophia, for everybody one more time. I couldn't do it anymore."

Andrea's face grew paler at each word, her glass of lemon-aid sitting forgotten on the table. Her younger sister, Amy, had taken Sophia on a tour of the grounds giving the others time to talk. For that, Carol was grateful. Neither of them needed to hear this. Michonne's face was impassive, her dark eyes giving nothing away as she toyed with a butter knife lying beside her plate. "Then what happened," she prompted.

"Ed kept some money tucked inside a coffee can that he kept under the bed. I wasn't supposed to know about it." Carol paused, her eyes fixed firmly on her clasped hands. "I took it all, grabbed my purse, and called a cab to come pick me up. We picked up Sophia and then went to the bus station. The tickets took most of what I had. I got us some clothes at Goodwill before the bus left and told Sophia we were going to visit Grandma. She hasn't seen her since she was six."

"So you left while Ed was still at work?" Andrea verified. Carol nodded silently. "Then how do you explain the cops finding your husband dead on your living room floor?"

"It wasn't me," Carol asserted. "I grabbed my girl and we ran. I didn't have a plan. I just wanted to get as far away from him as we could go."

Michonne leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she gave Carol a hard stare. "Think. There has to be something. Did he have any enemies? Had he pissed somebody off? Think, woman, it just might save your ass."

Her mind whirled, darting from thought to thought, unable to stay with one. "He had some friends, some sort of survivalist group. They carried a grudge against anybody that wasn't exactly like them. It's possible…"

"It's possible," Michonne repeated. "Did these friends drink and do drugs, whatever at their little get togethers?" Carol shrugged helplessly. "Don't give me that. You do know."

Carol covered her eyes with a shaking hand, "He always had money hidden away," she confided. "I didn't ask questions. I knew if I did then there'd be trouble. Yes, they did drugs. You name it, they did it. I think he sold what he didn't take himself."

Michonne chuckled, a deep and throaty sound that you couldn't hear without echoing it. "Of course he did," she stated. "You stole his take and put his ass in a sling by doing it. Some two bit hood took him out and you would have taken the heat if Daryl hadn't dragged you here." Carol's eyes widened as her meaning sank in. Michonne and Andrea exchanged grim smiles before she continued. "He don't usually bring in strays. If memory serves, you two are the first."

"He said he'd bring us here and that would be the end of it," Carol confided weakly. "I don't know why he went to so much trouble."

The two shared another look, full of unspoken words before Andrea questioned, "Don't you? Really?"

As the two of them put their heads together whispering inaudibly, Carol stared out the screen door at the figure hunkered down in front of a battered RV. "No," she said faintly. "I don't."

End part 2


	3. I didn't know I was strong

Guardian Angel

Chapter 3: I didn't know I was strong….

_"The strength of a woman is not measured by the impact that all her hardships in life have had on her; but the strength of a woman is measured by the extent of her refusal to allow those hardships to dictate her and who she becomes." ― C. JoyBell C._

_Fear. She knew it like the back of her hand…the way it felt, the way it tasted, the acrid tang of bile burning at the back of her throat._

_Despair. Nothing left to hope for. Nothing left to lose. Curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor biting back the urge to scream as cramps racked her body. Blood…warm and sticky and wet….coated her thighs as the pain finally crested. It rolled like the tide and she could do nothing but try to make it through._

_Anger. She saw red…everything red. Heat lightning and thunder looking for a place to ground. Nails biting furrows in her palms, stinging and smarting and the only thing real in the world. He could scream and punch and kick but it didn't matter anymore. This time was the last time he would lay hands on her. Never again. Not in this life. The gun was cold pressed against her temple, his breath an unpleasant hiss in her ear. He muttered and mumbled…threats and promises spilling out one after the other. Love. Loathe. Despise. Detest. Nothing. Blank. Pull the trigger, asshole. End it. One little twitch of a finger and everything will be just the way we want it. I'll be yours forever. I promise._

"I want to go over your story again," Andrea rested her chin on her upturned palm, giving Carol her full attention after she and Michonne finished their conversation. "You said you called a cab, picked up Sophia and headed for the bus station. Is that right?" Carol gave a hesitant nod, her eyes shifting from one to the other as she tried to work out what they were after. "And nobody saw you leave and you didn't tell anyone where you were going." Again, Carol shook her head. "We need to get the timeline straight so there are no holes for them to weasel through. Let's take a break, stretch our legs and then we'll lay it out." Andrea shared a smile between the two of them. "You're going to be just fine."

They pushed away from the table and made their way out to the porch. The farm slumbered in the late afternoon sun, its rolling fields and shaded corners lending them a sense of peace. Carol felt knots she didn't even realize were there loosen and ease. This place was an oasis for her. She propped herself up on the railing and closed her eyes, listening to the chimes dancing in the balmy Georgia breeze.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" a pensive voice spoke right beside her ear. A soft chuckle sounded when she abruptly jerked and looked wildly around. Her gaze found Michonne laughing behind her hand as she propped up on the balustrade a few feet down. "Are you always this jumpy? I wasn't even trying to be quiet."

Carol reddened and dropped her eyes to the neat flower beds bordering the porch. "No, not usually. I was just thinking the same thing. It is beautiful." A brief flicker of curiosity prompted her next question. "How long have you been here?"

Michonne's jaw tightened something like distress on her face. "Just over two years." She hesitated, biting her lip as her eyes fixed on some point in the distance. "My boyfriend wasn't what you'd call the charming type." She tilted her chin, allowing Carol a glimpse of a thin line skating along her jawbone. "He left me for dead in a bar parking lot. It took a lot of stitches to put me back together." She folded her arms across her stomach and settled more comfortably against the post. "Andrea was the counselor the hospital sent in to shrink my head."

"I didn't know she was involved in that," Carol confided.

"She's a professional busy body," Michonne rejoined, an ironic twist to her mouth. "I told her I didn't need saving and she could take her messiah complex someplace else. She took off and I figured that was the end of it but she came back later that day and the next. Told me about this place and since I didn't have anywhere else to go, I agreed. I've been here ever since."

Carol side eyed the stoic woman, turning those revelations over in her mind. Their stories were startlingly similar in some ways but polar opposite in others. Sensing that she was on the edges of a sensitive subject, Carol groped blindly for another topic. "What about Daryl? What's his story?"

This time it was Michonne giving Carol a sly glance as a tiny smile quirked her lips up. "Wouldn't you like to know," She commented, watching in interest as Carol's cheeks turned pink once again. "It's not my place to go into it except to say that he's been around here since he was about sixteen. He helps keep the place up and lets us know when he thinks somebody needs help. You're the first stray he's brought home. I guess that makes you special."

An odd fluttering lightness in her stomach took Carol by surprise. She and Sophia were the first ones he'd brought in on his own? She didn't know what to do with that knowledge, told her not to read too much in to it. Despite all her efforts to stay on an even keel, she felt the tilt into a sort of giddy madness. _Stop it, _she told herself sternly. _Enough. _ She had to think about Sophia and what her options were now. She didn't have the time or the energy to give over to a school girl pastime. She owed Daryl Dixon her gratitude but that was as all she had to give now.

"I can't thank you enough for what you've done for us," Carol admitted, twining her fingers together on the railing. "It's going to be difficult to help her understand what's happened. I really don't know what to tell her."

Slender fingers threaded through hers and gave a supportive squeeze. "You give it to her straight; make sure she knows you're not going anywhere. He's a piece of shit but he's still her daddy. She'll mourn him. She needs you to let her know that it's okay."

Again, Carol felt an unaccustomed prickle at the back of her eyes from the woman's unexpected kindness. She clung to Michonne's hand as she let out a breath, blinking back tears that threatened to fall. "I don't know what to say," she faltered. "It's just so…"

Michonne shook her head, waving away the unspoken thanks. "I think Daryl brought you here because you two are alike in a lot of ways." Carol wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she turned toward her. "Like I said, it's not my place but I'm not going to tell you anything that isn't already common knowledge around here. The rest, you'll have to get from Daryl." Her dark eyes flicked across the farm-yard to the two figures still bent over the ancient RV. A smile bloomed as one of them raised up gesturing furiously before going elbow deep into the vehicle's rusting innards. "The Dixons are a bit of a byword around town. It started with their old man and then Merle, Daryl's brother, did his part to carry on the family tradition. There isn't a bar or brothel for fifty miles around that hasn't been busted up by one Dixon or another as some point. After their mother died, Jeb Dixon dove headfirst into a bottle and didn't come out again. The boys, let's just say that they had to fend for themselves."

It didn't take too much to put the rest of the story together. She still had no clue what made him decide to help her and Sophia. She just couldn't wrap her head around it. "So one thing led to another and they somehow ended up here," Carol ventured a guess, feeling rather guilty about delving into Daryl's past behind his back. She avoided Michonne's interested look and focused instead on a slightly wilted petunia. Her busy fingers plucked at a few withered leaves and dead petals. "You're right. I shouldn't be asking these questions. It's really none of my business."

"Merle ended up in the Army," MIchonne confided. "I can't tell you how many times he was put through the system before Judge Greene got tired of his bullshit and called a halt. The last time he gave him the option of hard time or getting his ass in gear. He also got Dale Horvath, a hunting buddy of his, to offer Daryl a job on his farm. Daryl's been here ever since."

"So what became of Merle?" Carol wondered aloud.

"He's still around," the enigmatic woman laughed to herself. "Works for Andrea's firm up in Atlanta. He's a jack of all trades which makes him a handy guy to have on the payroll." She laughed again at Carol's incredulous expression. "He's unconventional but he gets stuff done. He also gives Andrea a hard time which is good. Keeps her on her toes."

Carol glanced at her before looking across the yard to where the younger Dixon was still engrossed in the RV. "It sounds like you like him," she ventured tentatively.

Michonne straightened, her previously amused bearing fading in to solemnity. "Daryl's not the only one who picks up strays."

Realization dawned, leaving Carol staring at the woman in open-mouthed awe. "So you have a guardian angel too."

The woman shrugged, a grin breaking through the somberness. "Don't know that I'd call either of them angels. If so, their halos are dented and those wings are just about unrecognizable by now."

It was Carol's turn to laugh. "Maybe you just have to know where to look," she returned.

"Maybe," Michonne pushed off the railing and sauntered to the screen door, looking back over her shoulder as she went. "Or maybe you just have to be willing to look past the obvious."

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Her thoughts spun like a top as she considered all that had happened over the course of the last few hours. Sophia was happily assisting Amy with the evening chores, chattering excitedly to her mother about all the wonders she'd seen since they first arrived. Carol hardly recognized the girl, all pink cheeked wonder and wide sparkling eyes as she recounted a slow turn around the paddock on a gentle mare named Nellie. Sophia loved horses and begged to go to summer camp every year with her friends. It broke Carol's heart to tell her no but there was no way Ed would have allowed it.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" She asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. Andrea and Michonne decided to take the divide and conquer approach to dinner. Michonne manned the grill while Andrea chopped vegetables and opened a bottle of wine to 'let it breathe' before they sat down to eat. Both rolled their eyes but it was Andrea who chose to answer.

"We've got it covered. Go and enjoy yourself. We'll call you when it's ready," the blonde casually ordered as she wrapped potatoes in foil before sliding them into the oven. "Take a walk over by the barn. There's a path that leads down to the duck pond. It's one of the prettiest spots on the farm."

She gave up the idea that they would relent and give her something to do in the kitchen and made her way back to the porch. It seemed like such a silly thing but she couldn't bear to be idle. Never in her life had someone told her to go enjoy herself in lieu of cooking or cleaning. It was anathema to her to even consider such a thing. She paused at the top of the steps and looked around guiltily. Seized by an unexpected surge of daring, she hopped down and skipped along the gravelled walkway that angled around the edge of the house. It really was beautiful here. At the edge of the yard was a gnarled old apple tree standing guard over a wrought iron bench. She walked toward it and laid an appreciative hand on the rough bark as she let her gaze rove over the green expanse of lawn and fields beyond.

It would be beautiful in the spring when the air was filled with the scent of freshly turned earth and pink tinged blossoms. It was idyllic in an enchanted, over-the-rainbow kind of way that made it seem not real. Her feet moved of their own accord, following a rutted track deeper into a shaded patch of wood. Alternating bands of light and shadow mottled the path, shadows piled thickly one atop the other, while further in, golden beams shifted and swayed as leaves danced in the balmy air.

Carol saw a glint of something through the trees, a ripple of light on water and couldn't help but hurry toward it. The trees opened up abruptly at the water's edge, embracing the shoreline in a tangle of reeds and willows. She crossed her arms and let out a long slow breath. Here now was a place where she could let go, just be for a while. She eased off her shoes and tucked them into the bend of a towering oak tree's roots where they would be easy to find before making her way down to the water. She laughed softly as tiny waves lapped around her ankles, her toes buried deep in velvety soft mud. She closed her eyes and tucked her chin into her chest and just breathed. Feeling a bit foolish, she glanced around hurriedly before kicking one foot playfully just below the surface. The resultant spray kicked up a play of rainbows and ripples. She bent at the waist; letting just the tips of her fingers skim the swells as the water ebbed and flowed around her. A distant, muffled splash pulled her head up, eyes frantic as they scanned the shoreline. It only took a second to find the cause and her heart plummeted.

He sat at the end of a weathered pier, shoes tossed behind him as he dangled his feet in the water. His head was lowered, hands braced at his sides, attention fixed firmly on the rolling surface. He couldn't know that she was a short distance away, so rapt was he on his game. She never took her eyes off him as she backed slowly to the bank. For the life of her, she couldn't make herself look away. He was always so guarded. The few times she'd glanced his way in the truck or back at the trailer, he'd intercepted it and either glared until she blinked or it was his that faltered, which made her feel guilty. This illicit watching made her feel almost brazen, bold in a way she'd seldom if ever felt before. It was heady, exhilarating to look her fill and not have a little voice in the back of her head chiding her for taking such a liberty.

His head lifted and turned, blue eyes pinning her in place. His widened and then narrowed accusingly as he noted the way she shied back into the surrounding bushes. He rose slowly, pausing to grab his boots before padding slowly back to the bank. He didn't drop his gaze as he toed on his boots and headed in toward her. "Shouldn't be wandering around alone," he grumbled, coming to a stop a short distance away. "Farm's pretty safe but you can run across a snake or the odd wild dog, especially close to the water."

"I needed to get out for a minute," she protested, fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt. "I couldn't just sit around doing nothing."

Those blue eyes were all too knowing as they swept over her from tangled tufted hair to mud splattered toes. A ghost of a smile tugged his lip up but he said nothing. Instead, he ambled off, the tilt of his head ordering her to follow. She grabbed her shoes and slipped them on before hurrying after him. He slowed as she came along side, and then waved to a tangled knot of green studded with silky white petals.

"You see it," he nodded toward the blossoms. She nodded wordlessly, and then gestured for him to continue. "It's a Cherokee Rose. The story is that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on the Trail of Tears, the Cherokee mothers were grieving and crying so much. So the elders, they said a prayer; asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits, give them strength and hope. The next day this rose started to grow where the mothers' tears fell." He tucked his hands in his pockets, eyes almost as soft and shy as his voice when he met her gaze. "I know it's hard now but you and your girl are okay. You're stronger than you think. You'll get through this. So will she."

What she was going to say next caught on the knot in her throat as those words hit home. He believed, this man who hardly knew her, believed wholeheartedly that she was capable of navigating the emotional hell hole her life had suddenly become. With this one simple act, he'd managed to turn her head-over-feet and she had no idea how to process it. He believed it and he wanted her to believe it too. "I didn't think I could ever be," her voice trailed off as her eyes sought the rose once again. "Ed wouldn't'…he didn't…."

"Ed ain't here," he stated firmly. "You gotta quit thinking like that. You are and you can. Period."

Carol was once again at a loss. His eyes didn't waiver. He sounded so sure. The words tumbled out before she could stop them, before she even realized they were there. "Is that what you did? Just stopped. Just like that."

The only answer was the soft mutter of the wind through the pines. His eyes fell away, suddenly intent on the crumpled grass beneath his boots. "Don't matter," he said after an interminable moment. "Ain't about me. Best you worry about you and your girl."

She stepped in close, at first hesitant and then unfailingly gentle as she laid her hand on his forearm and felt it tremble. He gave her a quick, panicked glance but didn't move away. That small victory gave her the courage to ask the question that simmered in her mind. "Why did you help us? All this time, I wanted to ask."

He shrugged the muscles of his arm growing taut and strained beneath her fingers. "I just did," he stubbornly repeated his earlier answer. "Don't have to have a reason."

Carol tightened her grip on his arm as she felt him start to slip away. When he turned a hot-eyed look on her, she lifted her chin, meeting him glare for glare. "I can't pay you back."

Surprisingly, his lips twitched into a smile, the first real one she'd seen from him. He pulled his arm out of her grasp and spun on his heel, headed back to the main house. "Supper should be done by now," he announced over his shoulder, an impish lilt plain as day in his voice. "You be alright finding your way back?"

"Yeah, sure." Her surly tone teased another smile from the man. "I'll be there in a minute." He disappeared into the trees, leaving her staring out over the water as her mind tried to unravel the snarled happenings of the past few days. "If you're going to make it through this, Carol, you have to become strong," she told herself sternly. "You have to do it for you and for Sophia."

She didn't quite know what to make of this newfound determination. It was too new, too unaccustomed, and too foreign. She only knew that a switch had been flipped and she couldn't and wouldn't go back to the woman she was before all this started.

End….chapter 3

a/n Credit for the Cherokee Rose story from Season 2's Pretty Much Dead Already goes to the writers of The Walking Dead, Robert Kirkman, and AMC. I have merely borrowed it here. Thank you for reading.


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